


Stay

by hocotate



Series: Flashfics/drabbles [9]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Death, Flash Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 18:14:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10393032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hocotate/pseuds/hocotate
Summary: On a certain day every year, Sehun visits a certain grave. One year, he meets a boy he's never seen before.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Since I intentionally mentioned only Sehun's name in this one, I did at first not want to tag a relationship. Yixing was, however, who I imagined, but I'll leave it for everyone to imagine whoever they feel like.

On a certain day every year, Sehun visits a certain grave. It's not a very special day, neither is it bright or particularly beautiful. It is grey, a bit windy, with only occasional sunrays peeking out from behind heavy clouds, and although the grass looks more green than brown, it isn’t soft like it used to be. The air is still quite warm, that is true, but this part of the world never really invites any snowflakes or frozen roads to slip and fall on. Not that Sehun would have noticed a change of temperature, but the lack of seasons still bothers him a bit.

He spots the grave and sighs deeply, seating himself before it as usual. Every year is always the same, yet he keeps visiting, watching the stones around him get raised only to droop and fall and vanish like the torrential rain lashing them to pieces. He visits every year, even when it pours, and he always visits alone.  
  
Playing with the blades of grass, pulling leisurely until barren soil flies all around, he puffs his cheeks in undying boredom. He could have brought flowers like he once used to do, but although it would bring beauty to the grounds, he knows better than most that things won’t change because of pretty colours and withering plants.  
  
He looks at the stone, squints at it as if it would make a difference. It is shrunken into the ground, its corners round and worn by the weather, and the letters carved and gilt by others are long since faded and no longer legible. Not that it matters, he thinks with a pout, because although no one else remembers what they said, his own memory remains intact.  
  
He doesn’t care to cry anymore, doesn’t even grieve. Time isn’t a circle and he knows he can’t go back, and even if he could he wouldn’t know what to do. Too many years have passed since then, and this is just a day like any other, another day of endless waiting.  
  
He doesn’t have time to rise back up until another figure appears in his periphery. Turning to look, he spots a boy, a smiling person he has never seen before. It seems almost funny, the way a huge bouquet rests between the other’s fingers, colourful and vibrant and not yet touched by the cruelty of time. It looks almost bizarre, the way he pats the neighbour stone like some soft, beloved pet, mumbling foreign words before shutting his eyes in peaceful silence.  
  
Thinking that he won’t be noticed, that the boy will finish his business and leave, Sehun stares in reluctant awe. No one ever talks to him, sees him even less, but although this is a day just like every other day, he finds himself surprised by unexpected eye contact.  
  
No words are uttered but the other still smiles, taking his bouquet and dividing it in half. Leaving one part, he walks over to Sehun, idles for a moment and falls to his knees. Looking at the stone, he keeps his smile on, genuine and warmer than what fits the occasion. He can’t possibly make out the name on this stone, yet he lingers, silent then humming, his gaze travelling over faded letters that no one alive has ever seen shining.  
  
Sehun just stares, his boredom replaced by joy mixed with pain. He has never seen this boy around but although the change should have him grieve, he still returns the smile, rejoicing. Death isn't funny but neither is it stoppable, so when he sees the bouquet dropping, he giggles aloud in selfish excitement.  
  
The flowers spread like weed, growing and rising as if the soil isn't barren. Hugging the stone, they paint it with their pigment, embellishing with warmth and life still sprouting. Encircling the letters, they gild them with pollen, allowing the name to be read once again.  
  
Sehun is amazed but not by that miracle. Death is still certain, carved in stone and sealed by tears, but what has him enlivened is the prospect of company. Turning to the boy, he opens his mouth to speak, however interrupted by a silent shake of head.  
  
The boy is still smiling when he rises to his feet, looking at Sehun just one last time. Patting the stone like he patted the other, he turns on his heel and walks away slowly.  
  
The clouds open up just a tiny bit, revealing the sun which shines on the letters. Happy about it, yet too curious to remain, Sehun stands up to examine the other’s. Kneeling before it, the grave next to his own, he lets his smile fade as it all dawns on him. He has never seen that boy before but now he knows the reason why, and as he fondles the golden numbers, he gasps and tears up, just a little bit.  
  
The grave is new, not yet worn by time nor by weather, and even though his own is older, they both still bear the same date. Patting the stone like the boy patted his, he looks at the flowers and lets a tear fall. Company is nice and all, he admits in silent shame, but even though he is no longer alone, he can't help but wonder why the other hasn't moved on yet.

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of my drabble collection on AFF.


End file.
